


Love in Reverse

by TheReaperGrimm



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, First Love, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Romance, puppyshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReaperGrimm/pseuds/TheReaperGrimm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaiba unknowingly stumbles into the gay bar where Jounouchi works. The two strike up an unlikely friendship after Jounouchi offers to be Kaiba's wingman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kaiba was gay. It wasn't so much the realization of his sexuality that throws you for a loop, it was more so the fact that Kaiba was capable of interest in another human being. Let alone affection. But here he is, walking into the gay bar that you just so happen to work at.

  
It's not that you're actually gay. The owner is drinking buddies with your father and the pay is good. Nobody asks how old you are and occasionally you get free booze. It’s a decent set up.

  
He's almost unrecognizable, looking nervous and out of place. His hair is parted differently and colored black with what is most certainly a temporary dye, because you'd seen him at school just that morning and his hair was still as brown as a chocolate fudge sundae. It's pulled messily pulled into a hat and you gawk because who would've thought you'd ever seen Kaiba in a hat and jeans, dressed so freaking normally for a change. His clothes are plain, and nuetral. If you hadn't spent the last two years of your life being harassed and emasculated by him you wouldn't have even noticed it was him.

  
But you know those blue eyes. You've seen them before. This is definitely Kaiba Seto, and you are definitely not mistaken. They're just as sharp and challenging as ever, and perhaps that's what's keeping the other patrons of the small little bar away from him.

  
And that's when it dawns on you. Kaiba is here to pick up dudes. Or get picked up by a dude. You weren't too sure. You acquired a pretty good gaydar after working at the bar for so long and you knew for a fact why Kaiba was standing in the little bar, looking lost and out of place.

  
You suddenly feel uncomfortable. What if he notices you? The guy used every possible flaw or weakness of yours to insult and humiliate you. Why would this be any different? You try to duck outside for some fresh air, but it's too late. He meets your eyes.

  
Maybe you can play it off? You wave and mutter a half hearted, “Hello, sir."

  
It falls on deaf ears. He is staring at you and he knows. He knows that you know. It catches him by surprise and for a brief second a look of complete shock washes over his face. But he schools his face back into a scowl and he stomps over to you with fierce determination.

  
"Jounouchi," he growls.

  
Fuck! You shake your head, causing your messy blonde hair to flop around your face, "Um, I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

  
That's right. Feign ignorance. He already thinks you're an idiot anyways. Keep calm. You’ve got this.

  
But the guy is a child genius and he sees right through your petty farce.

  
"Cut the crap. I know you know who I am."

  
"Alright, alright." you relent.

  
You both stare at each other, sizing one another up. There's only one question on both of your minds.

  
"What are you doing here?" You blurt out at the same time.

  
His glare sharpens. He stands there, quiet and demanding, as if waiting for you to speak first.

  
“I work here,” you mumble.

  
“You’re not of age to be working at a bar.”

  
“And you’re not of age to be going to bars,” you counter.

  
He frowns at you and you relish in this tiny victory. It wasn’t often that you won. In fact, you never won. Kaiba was always cutting you down. It felt good to finally beat him at his own game. Your pride jumps up ten notches when another thought suddenly occurs to you.

  
Kaiba was gay. You can totally use this little fact against him! Okay, you’re damned moral compass would probably stop you from doing that, but it’s not like he knew that. For all he knew, you were some jackass just waiting to blackmail him. If anything, you can trade secrets with him to keep your job a secret.

  
Cause one, you’re not old enough to be working in a bar, let alone handle alcohol. Two, you need this job. You and your father are barley holding on as it is, and you know you can’t count on that drunk to hold onto the rent when the guys downstairs are always having poker tournaments. Three, your school has a policy against after school jobs. You can get expelled for this. I mean, let’s be honest, you wouldn’t be all that sad about not having to go to school anymore, but school is where your friends are. And if you have any hopes at all of getting out of the slums, you have to graduate.

  
And the fourth and final reason. You really, really don’t want word getting out that you’re a waiter at some gay bar. You’d have to deal with the mocking laughter and insults, not to mention if Hirutani and the gang found out you bet your ass they’d hand you yours. Not everyone was as understanding as Yugi.

  
Kaiba takes a step forward, dangerously and most out of character-y pushing up into your personal space. His voice is low and threatening, “I don’t know what’s going through that thick skull of yours, but if you value your life you won’t tell a soul about this.”

  
You gulp and nod vigorously, “I won’t, as long as you don’t tell anyone that I work here.”

  
“As if I give a damn about you."

  
His voice and rough and full of malice. Okay. He probably hates your guts, but at least your secret is safe. Good to know. An awkward silence falls between the two of you. You’re normally great at conversations, but sweet baby Ra this is weird.

  
Your mother always said you never thought before speaking, and Anzu said you were always oblivious. Before you can stop yourself you’re already speaking.

“Hey Kaiba, ya know this bar is pretty much filled with old dudes. Ya might not have much luck here, unless you’re into that.”

  
You say it more to piss him off then to be helpful. The satisfaction is in your smile when he snarls at you.

  
“Get me a drink.”

  
“Fine, ya look like you could use one anyways. What’ll ya have?” you ask, pulling out the notepad and pen from your apron.

  
From the way he squints at the menu, you can tell he has no idea what he’s doing. Your satisfaction multiplies by ten. Not only is Kaiba Seto, the world’s biggest prick, looking like a lost puppy a gay bar, but the guy doesn’t even know how to order a drink. You have to give him some type of credit though, otherwise you’d get too smug. To be fair, he probably wasn’t used to “commoner’s drinks”. He probably drank fancy wine and champagne.

  
You wrench the menu from his hands and smile, “Why don’t ya let me pick?”

  
“I don’t need your help,” he spits.

  
“Oh come on,” you say, tapping your pen against the pad, “You need to loosen up. I’ll help.”

  
He grunts in acknowledgement.

  
“Ya don’t really look like a ‘beer man’. So how’s about we start ya off on something easy? I’m gonna get ya a Cherry Bomb. S’not too strong and it’ll suit a first timer like you.”

  
You must have looked a little to smug for his liking and he waves you off without looking at your face. You shrug. What else is there to really say? Your night has already been odd enough.  
__________________________________

  
The two of you actively avoid each other the next day at school. The black dye has been washed out of his hair, and his casual clothing replaced with his crisp, immaculate school uniform. Kaiba ended up having three drinks of your recommendation, speaking to no one, and then being driven away in a shiny, fancy car. And surprisingly, he left you a rather generous tip.

  
You’re trying your best to focus on math, but you can’t fucking focus. Kaiba was gay. The thought kept coming back to your head and replacing all thoughts of polynomials and monomials. How was it possible? And why hadn’t you noticed sooner?

  
It wasn’t like anything fundamental about Kaiba had changed, but someone you just can’t wrap your mind around the fact that Kaiba preferred the company of men. It’s like not like you were hating on the guy’s life choices or anything, but you don’t know…you always kind of pegged Kaiba as a loner. He didn’t look like the person to actively seek out the company of others. He always had a long drawn out monologue about how friendship sucked and how the entire Yugi-tachi could go die in a fire.

  
Love was a basic human need, sure, but Kaiba wasn’t a basic human being. You couldn’t imagine the frigid bastard snuggling up to another guy, or smiling as he went out dates. Kaiba always seemed suave, and cool. He had money out the ass and he could probably have any freaking girl he wanted. If he wasn’t such an antisocial, grumpy asshole he could’ve been one hell of a playboy. Kaiba had the ability to get girls you could never even dream of having a chance with. Oh well. With Kaiba out of the game, more hunnies for you.

  
But now that you’re really thinking about it, it kind of makes sense. Kaiba had an outrageous fashion sense. He was the only person of the male species who could pull of a plum colored trench coat. He had effeminate tendencies and he had no obvious interest in women. In fact, he had no interest in anybody unless they could beat him at Duel Monsters. You really didn’t mind the fact that he was gay, but something just didn’t sit well with you.

  
Whatever. To hell with Kaiba and his swishy trench coats. It’s lunch, and with Kaiba’s generous tip from last night, you can get afford to spoil yourself. Hello ramen, goodbye worries.

  
You meet up with the gang in the cafeteria and it eases your troubled mind. You talk about Duel Monsters with Yugi and scold Honda for asking you about your sister. It’s so natural. You don’t have to tip toe around anyone’s feelings or walk on egg shells. You’re pretty confident that these guys would still be friends with you if you happened to grow a second head tomorrow.

  
But no matter how good friends you were, there would always be things you couldn’t tell the gang. Not because they wouldn’t accept you, but because you had your pride as a man and you didn’t need anyone trying to help you out of pity. For the most part though, you and the gang closer than a pair of asscheeks.

  
“Did you get your math test back, Jounouchi-kun?” Yugi asks you.

  
You take a long swig from your soda and shake your head, “I passed, just barely though.”

  
“You’d do better if you focused more on school and less on porn,” Honda snorts.

  
The two of you exchange playful punches and chuckle, “Who says I can’t do both?”

  
As per usual, Anzu is the mother of the group. She frowns and turns her nose up at you and Honda, “The two of you are never going get girlfriends.”

  
You give an indignant snort. You’ve had plenty of girlfriends. They stayed with you for a while, keeping you company on lonely nights, and eventually they’d all tossed you to the side. They’d wanted a boyfriend with money and a car. They’d wanted a boyfriend with more free time. So be it. Give it five years and you’d have all that and more. They’d regret dumping you.

  
Besides, you’d already got what you wanted, anyways. High school was about having fun, not finding a wife. Although you knew that, you wished Yugi would catch on. Anzu was great, but she was kind of a nag. Yugi could worry about trying to marry the girl after college.

  
Honda elbows you and raises a brow, “Jou, you didn’t do something to piss Kaiba off, did you? He keeps looking over here.”

  
Thanks a lot, Hon. It’s not like you hadn’t noticed. You didn’t want to notice. Kaiba had been on your brain all damn day and it irritated you to no end. You were nothing more than a speck of dust to him who just so happened to find out about his little secret. The two of you hated each other, and definitely didn’t trust one another. He was probably making sure you were upholding your end of the bargain.

  
Loose lips sink ships. If word got out that Kaiba Seto, CEO of Kaiba Corp was a fruitcake, the guy would be ruined. He’d have reporters all up his butt and people might stop buying Kaiba Corp products. It was a sad, but inevitable fact. You had unwittingly stumbled into what could quite possibly be a very dangerous weapon. In the back of your mind, you kind of wished you’d asked him for money, but there was no way in hell you’d take a hand out from that jackass, or a hand out in general. You’re way too proud, and way too stubborn for your own good.

  
You slept on a park bench one night when your dad was too drunk to unlock the front door for you once. You contemplated asking a friend for help, but that would mean telling them about your shitty situation and that was really not what you wanted to do.

  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hon,” you say in a nonchalant tone.

  
Anzu may not have been as smart as Kaiba, but she sees through your bluff. Man, you’re kind of a shitty liar.

  
“I know you’re hiding something, Jounouchi.”

  
Damn that nosy woman and damn that oblivious Honda. You would rather die than tell your friends about what happened last night. The verbal contract you signed with Kaiba prevented you from saying anything at all anyways.

  
“Look, don’t worry about it. S’not anything serious,” you say. You stuff your mouth with ramen before Anzu gets a chance to press you further.

  
Instead Yugi says and tries to play peacemaker, “You shouldn’t fight with Kaiba-kun so much. He isn’t that bad, Jounouchi-kun. I’m sure that if we got to know him we could all be friends.”

  
You don’t want to get to know him, your brain screams. You already know enough. If you found out any more comprising and secretive facts about Kaiba he might have to kill you. He was a grade A asshole. You pitied the poor fool who would end up with him.

  
“Alright Yuug,” you sigh, not wanting to upset your best pal, “I’ll try to get along with him.”

  
Yugi smiles and it’s bright enough to rival the sun, “Good! You’re a good friend, Jounouchi-kun.”

  
You smile back and eat the rest of your lunch in silence. Kaiba’s persistent stare hangs over you like a black cloud.

  
__________________________________

  
When school ends that day you’re approached by tall men in suits and thrown into the back of Kaiba’s limo. They slam the door in your face before you get a chance to protest and suddenly you’re stuck in a small, confined face with the one guy you wanted to avoid.

  
“Did you tell anybody about last night?” he demands.

  
You shoot him an angry look and rub your sore backside. You’re fine, thanks for asking jackass.

  
“No, I don’t have a death wish.”

  
He nods slowly. He’s probably still skeptical about you but he says a firm, “Alright.”

  
Your eyes dart around the car. You refuse to make eye contact with him. It’d be too weird.

  
“So um, can I go now?”

  
Kaiba completely disregards your question. He crosses his legs and commands his driver to start the car. You scramble into the seat next to him and buckle your seat belt. Was he trying to kill you?

  
“Are you going to be working tonight?” he asks.

  
The confusion on your face had to be evident. That was completely random. Kaiba practically kidnaps you just to know your work schedule? What the hell?

  
“Yeah,” you say slowly and you hug your school bag to your chest, “Why?”

  
He blatantly ignores you, once again. He is perfectly calm, and perfectly still, unlike yourself, who is a nervous wreck. You cough into your hand and bounce your knee.  
The silence was deafening.

  
“Where are you taking me?” you ask.

  
He snorts and stares at you with his bright, blue eyes, “To your home. No need to act like a frightened dog with his tail between his legs.”

  
“Um, how do you know where I live?”

  
“I have power and money, Bonkotsu. I do business in more than seven different foreign languages and I can pilot planes. Finding something as simple as your address is child’s play.”

  
You nod your head, and bite back at retort to his insult. If he really was driving you home, you didn’t want to piss him off and have him ditch you on the side of the road. Still, the fact that he knows where you live is kind of creepy, and in all honesty you don’t know if he’s actually driving you out to the middle of nowhere so he can kill you and keep his secret safe. Kaiba was kind of crazy and you were pretty sure he wasn’t above murder, especially when it was someone he disliked as much as you.

  
The rest of the ride is silent and you have to mentally play music in your head to keep you sane. You recognize the houses and buildings, and are fairly competent that Kaiba isn’t out to murder you (at least not today). He has his driver go right into the slums without ever missing a beat, and he even has the car stop right outside your apartment building.

  
You don’t know why the hell he’s doing all this, but best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You open the door and scramble out, muttering a frantic thank you and goodbye.

He stops you right before you slam the door closed and his eyes meet yours, “See you tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay it's been almost a month but I'm finally back with chapter two. I didn't realize til halfway through this chapter that technically these dweebs are underage. I do not condone underage drinking but I'm too lazy to go back and change the plot.

As promised, Kaiba is back at the bar later that night. He’s dressed just as inconspicuously as the night prior. His clothes were simple and his hair was dyed black again, only this time it was parted neatly on his head without a hat covering it. You crinkle your nose. Kaiba looks better with brown hair, you think. The black didn’t suit him, although you begrudgingly admit it does bring out the color in his eyes. His eyes are a cool shade of blue, while yours are a deep shade of boring, chocolate brown. If you had his eyes girls would be all over you.

  
He takes a seat at bar counter you’re standing behind. Once he’s settled in he snaps his fingers, beckoning you like a man would his dog.

  
“I was heading over here anyways,” you grumble, “The place is dead tonight, so it’s not like I’m busy.”

  
He ignores you and snatches the drink menu from your hands.

  
“So, uh, I didn’t really think you’d come back,” you say conversationally.

  
“Shouldn’t you be working?” he says curtly.

  
You raise the glass you’ve been wiping and shrug, “I am working. But I can’t help but notices how out of place ya look.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Yeah,” you insist, nodding as you stare at your reflection in the glass, “You’d have more luck if ya smiled more.”

  
He traces a finger along the counter and gives you a pointed look, “I don’t recall asking you for advice.”

  
“Well I’m giving it. You catch more bees with honey than vinegar or whatever.”

  
“Because you have such a vast pool of knowledge on the subject,” he snorts.

  
Your eyebrow twitches. He was mocking you again. No big surprise there, but it irks you. You have plenty of romantic experience. Obviously more than him, anyways. He was always insulting you, but the fact that he thought you were just as incapable of having romantic relationships as you were in school hurt your pride a little. You knew Kaiba didn’t think very highly of you, but the way the way he spoke to you, with his nose turned upwards in disgust and his unapproving eyes just pissed you off.

  
It wasn’t like you were some kind of Greek god, but you knew you were a good catch. You were plenty charming and you had abs for days. Fuck Kaiba.

  
“Obviously more knowledge than you,” you spit.

  
His eyes widen almost imperceptivity. That’s right you smug bastard. You’re not the butt ugly dog that he makes you out to be.

  
“You can’t always account for taste,” he says, smirking as he watches your face turn an angry shade of red.

  
You set the glass down on the bar as calmly as you can because you literally can’t afford to be breaking shit you can’t pay for, “What is that supposed to mean?”

  
“Exactly what I said,” he says, cold and mocking, “Although I suppose given time, a few people may feel inclined to give a few scraps to a pathetic, mangy mutt.”

  
“I’m not a dog!” you growl, regrettably in a way that kind of made you sound like a dog.

  
Kaiba crosses his legs, his self-satisfied smirk growing with your raising anger. And that’s when it hits you. He’s toying with you.

  
You’ve seen that victorious glint in his eyes before. You’ve been pinned down by it every time the two of you duel. It’s the only give you can read off of him, and by the time you notice it he’d probably already blasted your remaining life points to zero. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction. You wouldn’t let him fuck with your min; at least not while you knew he was doing it.

  
“Ya know what?” you huff, “Doesn’t matter. I know what you’re doing and I’m not going to let you bother me.”

  
His laugh is dry and hollow, “I guess old dogs can learn new tricks.”

  
“You know it’s that shitty attitude that’s the reason you’re alone you know,” you counter.

  
His eyes harden. Guess you hit a sore spot, “I like being alone.”

  
You roll your eyes, “If that’s the case, then why are you here Kaiba?”

  
“That’s none of your concern.”

  
Typically you aren’t a nosy person. You know when somebody is wants space, but Kaiba is getting on your nerves and you want to piss him off, “Don’t give me that crap. Nobody comes to a bar to be alone. You’re lonely. You’re looking for love, whether you’ll admit it or not.”

  
He sets the menu down on the table and glares at you. On the outside it would appear that he was calm, but you know you’re starting to get under his skin. Kaiba didn’t yell or shout when he was angry (not unless he was dueling Yugi anyways), but his voice would get low and his tone would sound forced, like he was trying to maintain his composure.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

  
Arguing with Kaiba was like playing with fire. You knew it was dangerous, but the flames caught your eye. You couldn’t help yourself.

  
“I know that you can’t live your life telling yourself you don’t need anyone else. I’m sure deep down you aren’t the frigid bastard you make yourself out to be.”

  
He stares at you. His face is still guarded but you can tell he’s mulling over your words. It wasn’t like you were trying to start some profound, self-realization in him. You were just trying to pull out a win. But something you said must have struck a chord in him because he offers you no rebuttal.

  
“Um, anyways,” you stutter, caught off guard by his silence, “Are ya gonna order something or not?”

  
He folds his hands neatly in his lap, “What do you recommend?”

  
“Depends.”

  
“On?” he presses.

  
“Well it’s not like I know you well enough to judge,” you snort, “It’s up to you to figure out what you like.”

  
“And what is it that you like, Bonkotsu? I hardly take you for the kind who would have a refined taste.”

  
Damn. Did he have to insult you every chance he got? Ugh whatever. You have to relax. Keep cool.

  
You didn’t like the idea of bowing down to him and kissing his ass, but maybe if you were civil enough he’d leave you a nice tip. You kind of needed a new pair of shoes, but you also needed this month’s rent. If anything, playing nice with Kaiba could be your ticket to both.

  
You take a deep breath and shrug, “Guess you’re right. I’m more of a beer and straight liquor kind of guy. I’m not really into anything fancy. I like it strong and I like it dirty.”

  
He crinkles his nose at you, “As expected.”

  
“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth, “I can tell you’re not into that. I can get you a Pina colada or a dirty martini if that’s fine with you.”

  
His eyes narrow, “What are you trying to say?”

  
“What?”

  
“Why are you suggesting such feminine drinks?”

  
“I’m not,” you insist, thought you most definitely were, “If you don’t want that you can order something else, jeez.”

  
“I don’t need to be looked down on by the likes of you,” he seethes.

  
“I’m not ‘looking down’ on you,” you grunt, impatiently tapping your foot on the ground, “You don’t look like much of a drinker. First timers are always light weights.”

  
“Are you suggesting that you’re better than me?”

  
“Why does everything have to be a competition with you?” you sigh, “I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

  
“Apologize to me.”

  
“For what?” you demand.

  
“For being rude to a paying customer. Your employer needs to learn how to put muzzles on his dogs.”

  
Fuck the tip. You weren’t going to let Kaiba treat dirt at your place of work. You plant your feet firmly on the ground and ball your hands into tight fists. You’ve never gotten into a fist fight with Kaiba before, but you’re more than sure you can take the skinny little fuck. You bare your teeth in a way that you’re sure Kaiba will equate to your “dog like attributes”.

  
“What the hell is your problem? You think just because you have money and power you can get whatever you want and walk all over everyone?” you shout, not caring anymore if your boss or coworkers can hear you.

  
“Yes,” he says in an annoyingly calm tone, “That’s how the world works.”

  
At this point, your veins are probably bulging and your shoulders are shaking, “Well I don’t care how much money you have, cause that isn’t going to stop me from knocking your teeth out. This isn’t school and this isn’t Duel Monsters. I’m not going to let you treat me like crap!”

  
You shoot across the bar and manhandle Kaiba’s collar, pulling him over the counter. He doesn’t lift a hand to stop you. In fact, you blatant act of violence barely garners a reaction from him. His eyes bore into yours, and he looks just as nonchalant as ever.

  
“Go ahead. Hit me, Jounouchi,” he challenges, “Resort to violence like the animal you are.”

  
You’re vaguely aware of the hand your boss places on your shoulder. At this point, all you can focus on are Kaiba’s annoyingly blue eyes, cold and unwavering. He’s laughing at you, even now. Physically you’ve got the upper hand, but mentally you know he’s won. He’s managed to poke and prod at you, and provoke you into doing exactly what he’s predicated.

  
He’s backed you into a corner without even trying. That’s it. Now you’re done for.

  
If you hit him, he’ll have your ass hauled to prison. If you let him go, you’ll seem weak. And just like that, it’s a win win situation for him. Your boss is probably going to fire you and Kaiba will probably have you arrested for assault. You’ll be out of a job and without bail money. And to add insult to injury, he’s smirking.

  
You release your death grip on Kaiba’s shirt and push him backwards, disgusted with him and annoyed with yourself, “You aren’t worth it,” you spit.

  
The manager is shaking you, and his shrill voice fills your ears, “Jounouchi-kun! What are you doing?” he cries.

  
You bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself to speak just yet.

  
The manager bows frantically, shoving your head down along with him, “I am so sorry about this sir! Jounouchi is a good kid, but sometimes he just has a bad temper!”

  
You watch as Kaiba smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt, seemingly unaffected, “It’s fine.”

  
You gape, rubbing your head as the manager lets you up from the deep bow. What was Kaiba playing at this time?

  
Your boss smacks you on the back of the head and scolds you, “Apologize to him, Jounouchi!”

  
“No way!” you exclaim.

  
“Jounouchi!”

  
“That won’t be necessary,” Kaiba interrupts, sliding a hand into his coat pocket.

  
“But sir...”

  
Kaiba pulls out his wallet and tosses a generous amount of money on the table, “Instead I’d like to buy him off his shift tonight.”

  
“What?” you bark, slamming your palms down onto the counter, “You can’t just buy me like I’m some sort of pet! Take your shitty money and get out of here!”

  
He meets your eyes and tosses a few more bills onto the table, “While we’re at it, get me a bottle of his favorite liquor.”

  
Looking between Kaiba and yourself, your boss nods, “Alright. Jounouchi you’re off the hook for tonight,” he collects the bills and shakes his head, “I’ll have your drinks sent out shortly.”

  
The traitor smiles at you and shoots you a thumbs up, leaving you wide eyed and at a loss for words. Kaiba points to the bar stool next to you.

  
“Sit.”

  
“No,” you growl, crossing your arms over your chest.

  
Kaiba raises a brow at you, “I just bought you for much more than you’re worth, Bonkotsu. Unless you’d like to hear from my lawyer, I suggest you sit down and shut up.”

  
“Why?” you demand, eyeing Kaiba suspiciously, “What do you want?”

  
He smirks as you reluctantly take the seat next to him, “We are going to play a game.”

  
“A game?” you repeat. Your tone is slow and unsure, “Like a drinking game? Is that why you ordered the Jack?”

  
“The what?”

  
“The Jack Daniels. It’s an American whiskey,” you say, biting your lip, “It’s my favorite.”

  
“I’ve decided to give you the upper hand,” Kaiba explains, “Since you’re going to lose.”

  
You scratch your head and frown, “Ya know drinking games aren’t like card games, Rich Boy. I’ve been drinking longer than you have. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  
“That hardly matters. I’m far more resilient than you.”

  
“That’s not really the issue,” you say, “How about this, do you have your Duel Monsters cards?”

  
Kaiba’s hand hovers over his breast pocket, “You want to duel instead?”

  
You shake your head, “No, there’s this drinking game that me and some of the guys play sometimes. Take out all of your magic and trap cards so that all you have only have monster cards. Shuffle your deck and flip we both flip up the top card. The stronger monster wins and the loser does a shot. First one to get drunk loses the game.”

  
He gives a dry chuckle at your explanation, “What is this? An idiot’s version of Duel Monsters?”

  
“Well yeah, that’s the idea,” you huff, “Duel Monsters is pretty complicated, and you can’t really play when you’re drunk. Instead you just leave it up to luck rather than skill.”

  
“I don’t need luck to beat you.”

  
You roll your eyes, “Neither do I! So let’s make this more interesting.”

  
“How so?”

  
“If I win you have to quit being a jerk to me.”

  
Suddenly there’s a spark in his eyes, “And if I win?”

  
“You won’t,” you growl.

  
“And if I do?” he repeats.

  
You slump forward and consider your options. Kaiba is a sadistic bastard. If it were up to him he’d probably dress you up in a dog suit and parade you through the city, “I don’t know…what do you want?”

  
His laugh catches you by surprise, “I don’t want anything. The satisfaction of watching you watching you lose will be more than enough.”

  
“We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re barfing your guts up,” you mumble wrenching your deck out of your pocket.

  
The two of you set up your decks as the manager fetches the bottle of whiskey and the glasses. He gives you a shit eating grin as you shuffle your deck and bids you good luck.

You won’t need luck tonight. You have faith in your cards, and if those fail you, you have faith in your gut. At the very least it’ll take fewer losses to get Kaiba drunk before you do. So long as he doesn’t draw all three of his Blue Eyes White Dragons consecutively, you should be safe.

  
When you’re done shuffling you set your deck down on the bar counter, “Ready?”

  
Kaiba nods, “This will be over soon enough.”

  
“I wouldn’t get too confident if I were you Kaiba. You’ll be eating those words when you’re drunk off your ass,” you taunt, “On the count of three. One, two, three!”

  
You both flip the top card of your deck up and stare.

  
Baby Dragon and Blue Eyes White Dragon. Fuck.

  
“Losing already?” Kaiba says with a smirk.

  
“Beginner’s luck,” you wrench the top off of the bottle and pour your shot. You look the smug bastard in the eye as you down the first drink and lose the first round.

  
It’s strong. You slam the glass down and lick your lips when you’re done. You’ve got this. It’ll take a few more losses before you start to even feel a buzz. You can’t let Kaiba see you sweat. You nod at Kaiba and flip your next card.

  
Jinzo!

  
You grin. Kaiba’s cards have pretty high attack points, but with by drawing a card with 2400 attack points the odds were in your favor. You glance at Kaiba’s card.

  
La Jinn The Mystical Genie of The Lamp.

  
Your grins widens, “Looks like I win this won,” you pour Kaiba a shot and slide him the drink, “Bottoms up.”

  
He glares at the drink. You’re pretty sure this is the first time Kaiba’s ever had whiskey. He lifts the drink to his face and frowns.

  
“This smells disgusting.”

  
“You can quit now if you can’t handle it,” you laugh.

  
His glare is now fixed on. He looks you dead in the eye as he puts the glass to his lips and gulps in down in one go. The effect is almost immediate. Tears pool in his eyes and he bites back a cough. His chest heaves as he covers his hand with his mouth.

  
Yeah that’s right! Not so smug now, are you? Even Kaiba couldn’t maintain his composure while his throat was on fire. The first time you had hard liquor you nearly spat it back up. Kaiba liked to act all high and mighty but he was fairing no better than you, your first time.

  
“How was it?” you ask, your voice taking on a haughty tone, “Wanna quit yet?”

  
His eyes are still red and watery as he looks up at you, “No,” he chokes.

  
You shrug your shoulders and push a can of Coke towards him, “Use the soda to wash it down.”

  
He glares at you and cracks the can open. He silences his coughing with a generous gulp of soda. When he recomposes himself he stares at the bottle with disdain, “This is what you like?”

  
“Yeah,” you confirm, nudging your thumb at the bottle, “It grows on ya after a while. I didn’t really think it would be your cup of tea.”

  
“Shut up,” he growls, hand on his deck, “Flip your next card.”

  
“Sure thing Money Bags.”

  
You flip Sangan upwards while Kaiba has X Head Cannon.

  
“Damn,” you hiss.

  
For a guy that didn’t rely on luck, it seemed like Kaiba had a lot of it. You frown as you do another shot, this time cracking open you own can of soda and taking a sip. If you were going to win you had to pace yourself. Even if you kept drawing losing cards you could still win if you kept up your tolerance.

  
Deep breath. You’ve got this! Draw your next card.

  
Tiny Guardian?

  
You groan, internally kicking yourself. Kaiba points to his Battle Ox with a triumphant smirk.

  
The next shot causes your eyes to water. Crap. This wasn’t good. In about fifteen minutes you knew your brain was going to get fuzzy. You needed to slow the game down and give yourself time to sober up. You needed to chat Kaiba up.

  
“Are you having fun?” you blurt out. You immediately regret your question and lift your soda to your lips.

  
“Beating you is child’s play.”

  
Your eyes twitches, “If you dislike me that much, I don’t see why you keep coming back to the bar.”

  
Kaiba taps his fingertips on his deck, “Because you’re a liability.”

  
You scratch your cheek, “Um, I don’t really understa—“

  
“It means I don’t need you running your big mouth and telling anyone about me.”

  
Your nostrils flare, “I know what it means! I mean I don’t understand why you don’t trust me. I gave you my word!”

  
“As if that means anything to me,” Kaiba snorts.

  
“You know you’re never going to be able to build a successful relationship if you can’t trust anyone,” you huff.

  
“That’s hardly any of your business.”

  
“I’m not saying it is. But it’s probably not a good idea to start a relationship based on lies,” you counter, “What do you think the other person is going to think when you wash your hair, put on your dramatic trench coat and say hey, by the way I’m actually Kaiba Seto?”

  
“Just play your card,” he says in an impatient tone.

  
You rest an elbow on the counter and flick your next card up.

  
Panther warrior. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Kaiba’s Lord of Dragons.

  
“Your go,” you say, pouring him his second shot.

  
He winces as he downs the drink. Tears collect in his eyes again as he polishes off the whiskey with soda.

  
“Disgusting.”

  
Leave it to Kaiba to be a priss when it came to drinking, “Just cause you don’t like something doesn’t make it gross.”

  
“I don’t know what I expected. This is coming from the taste pallet of a dog,” he says, “How foolish of me.”

  
Fucking douche.

  
“What’s your problem?” you ask, “I don’t get why you always have to target me. What did I ever to do?”

  
“I don’t like to associate myself with those beneath me. Flip your next card.”

  
“Ugh!” you exclaim. You turn your card over and frown, “The least you can do is give me a straight forward answer.”

  
Gearfried the Iron Knight and Sagi the Dark Clown.

  
Kaiba’s eyes aren’t as sharp as they normally are after he downs his third shot. You can see his buzz kicking in. Hopefully the edge of the whiskey could take the edge off of his personality.

  
“You still with me?” you ask, waving your hand in front of Kaiba’s face.

  
He pushes your hand away, but you can tell his reaction was a bit delayed, “I’m fine,” he flips his next card and smirks, “Hyozanryu. Beat that.”

  
You gulp as you flip your next card. By what most certainly must be the grace of whatever god or gods out there you draw Red Eyes Black Dragon, and you nearly fall out of the bar stool as you cheer in victory.

  
“Hell yes!” you’re grinning from ear to ear, “You’re going down Kaiba.”

  
He sneers as he accepts the shot from you. He takes it down with two gulps this time, instead of one. When he’s done he covers his mouth, eyes red and watery.

  
“Why do you drink this filth?” he rasps, “It’s awful.”

  
“I don’t know. Pops always said whiskey is a man’s drink,” you chuckle, pushing his soda towards him.

  
“Well your masculinity must be fragile if you have to rely on such a horrendous drink to make you feel adequate,” he says, blinking the tears from his blood shot eyes.

  
Alright. It looking like drunk Kaiba was going to be just as rude as sober Kaiba, but at least he was a bit more talkative.

  
“We can get something else if you want,” you offer.

  
“No,” he grunts, “Just get on with it.”

  
You nod and flip Insect Queen onto the counter top.

  
Z metal tank. Kaiba clenches his fist.

  
“I win again,” you say in a smug tone.

  
He glares, his blue eyes lined by a ring of red, “You’re running out of powerful cards. I’ll have you beat in a few turns.”

  
“That’s not how drinking games work. You’re going to need to outlast me to ‘beat me in a few turns’,” you taunt, “And from the looks of it, you’ll be out before you make it there.”

  
He’s losing his composure. His words are coming out slower, as if he were putting great effort to speak. At this point, you must be wearing a shit eating grin. For the first time in the history of ever, it looks like you may actually beat Kaiba. He closes his eyes and leans back, nearly falling out of the bar stool.

  
Shit! You lean forward and catch him, gripping him by the shoulders.

  
“Hey, are you alright man?”

  
He shirks away from your touch, blinking wearily, “Don’t touch me.”

  
“I just saved you from cracking your head open,” you say, annoyed at the concern in your voice. Kaiba was a dick, but you could tell he was reaching his limit. You needed to stop the game. Better safe than sorry, “Maybe we should stop.”

  
“Givingup already?” he asks, he words slurring together.

  
“No, but unless you want to spend the night barfing your guts up I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”

  
“I’m fine,” he slurs, “Pour methe shot.”

  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rich Boy.”

  
“Just do it.”

  
You pour the whiskey, but keep the glass out of his reach. It was obvious the liquor was hitting him all at once. If Kaiba did the shot in your hands, he’d be drunk, if he wasn’t already.

  
In other words, if you gave it to him, you’d win.

  
“I could do this one for ya, Kaiba. You should just drink your soda and sober up.”

  
“Giveit tome,” he commands.

  
“Even if I gave it to you, it wouldn’t matter,” you sigh, “I win.”

  
“You haven’t wonyet, idiot,” he protests, “Give it to me.”

  
“If I give it to you, will you admit that you’re drunk, and that I won?”

  
“I’mnotdrunk.”

  
You shrug your shoulders. You weren’t Kaiba’s keeper. If he wanted to get drunk off of his ass, who were you to stop him? It wasn’t your fault he was a light weight. You slide him the shot and watch as he chugs in down in one gulp.

  
“Do you want to keep going?” you ask.

  
He nods his head, teetering in his seat, leaning precariously close to the edge.

  
“Are you drunk yet?”

  
He shakes his head, murmuring a soft, “No.”

  
Alright. You had two options at this point. You could be a dick and keep the game up, not stopping until Kaiba either blacked out or was lying in a pool of his own vomit. Or you could stop the game, and get Kaiba to the restroom, preferably before he started blowing chunks. You absolutely hated when people got so wasted that they barfed in the bar. It was gross and it was sloppy, neither of which Kaiba was.

  
Knowing your damned sense of moral justice you knew that you were going to end up helping Kaiba keep his dignity intact, though had it been the other way around, he would’ve left you to the wolves.

  
You’d really, really like to take some kind of physical proof of how completely wasted Kaiba was right now, but you just weren’t that kind of guy. Just the knowledge of this moment alone was good enough for you. Unlike Kaiba, you weren’t some giant, egotistical jerk face who used anything bad or embarrassing about a person against them. In this respect, that made you the better man.

  
“Hey,” you say, catching his attention, “I’m going to go to the restroom. You can come too if you need to go.”

  
You’re not really sure if he heard you, so you open your mouth to repeat the question. Before you can answer he’s suddenly falling forwards, slumping against your shoulder and muttering incoherently. Without a second thought you lock your arms around his torso, stopping him from falling even farther and knocking you both down. He’s heavier than you expect and you’re at a loss of what to do. Kaiba is drunk and in your arms, and you have no idea what to do.

  
His hair tickles your cheek as you struggle to stand. Kaiba is down for the count and you slide an arm under his arm pits to support his weight. Okay. You’ve been in weirder situations. The restroom really isn’t that far and he hasn’t barfed yet. This isn’t too bad. You’re still doing good.

  
You half walk and half drag Kaiba to the restroom with you. He doesn’t really reject your assistance and kind of stumbles forward with you, like a brainless zombie. You silent curse your coworkers and the manager for giggling and pointing at the two of you, rather than offering an help. Assholes.

  
You set Kaiba down on the bench and quickly dart over to a urinal to relieve yourself. You sigh as you let out what feels like a gallon of pee, groaning as it suddenly occurs to you that Kaiba will probably have to pee soon too. You needed Kaiba to wake up or sober up soon. You weren’t going to help him pee.

  
“Hey Kaiba,” you tentatively call out, poking his arm, ”Are you okay?”

  
He wordlessly groans, lurching forward as a hand flies to his face.

  
Oh no. He was going to blow chunks. Code red, code red! You haul him up by the shoulders and drag him into the first stall, setting him on his knees and positioning him over the toilet. His back heaves and he leans forward, spewing up whatever the hell he had for dinner into the toilet.

  
You grimace as you watch the mighty CEO and majority shareholder of Kaiba Corporation hurl up his guts. It was pretty gross, but thanks to your father you had plenty experience in dealing with drunks. You weren’t going to barf at the sight of Kaiba barfing, at least. You have no clue what to do with your hands, they awkwardly hover above Kaiba’s head.

  
When he’s done paying homage to the porcelain god he leaves back and rests his head against the stall, groaning pitifully.

  
You bite the inside of your cheek. No what are you supposed to do? Okay well step one, clean off his face, it’s kind of gross. You sigh and wipe his mouth with some tissue, silently gagging as you cover your mouth and flush the toilet. Step two, you have to get him out of the restroom.

  
“Kaiba, are you alright?” you inquire, hoping this time he won’t half to barf again.

  
His eyes blink open, bleary and blood shot before rolling back and closing again.

  
You squat down to eye level with him and tap his cheek, “Come on Rich Boy, you gotta get up. Ya can’t sleep in the bathroom.”

  
He mumbles something unintelligible in response.

  
“Dude come on,” you whine, tugging on his arm, “Get up.”

  
You can feel him weakly grasp your arm in response. Okay, so you were probably going to have to drag him or carry him out. No big deal. He’s knocked out and can’t give you any lip if he gets too heavy and you drop him. That’s a plus. He was probably too big to carry bridal style, so you are going to have to get him on your back. You dangle his arms around your neck and use all of your might to heave him forward and up.

  
The weight of his body throws you off center and you stumble-- or maybe it’s just your buzz. You can’t really tell at this point. Quite frankly, you don’t even really care at this point. All you care about is getting to step four, getting Kaiba home safely.

  
He probably has one of his fancy cars and his driver outside waiting for him. If you manage to make it outside you’ll be rid of Kaiba and you can head home and get some much deserved shut eye. It was going to take some effort though, because carrying Kaiba on your back wasn’t like carrying Yugi or your sister. Kaiba was taller and much heavier.  
With your arms securing Kaiba’s long, lanky legs in place you start the perilous trek forward. Okay, so maybe you’re being a little dramatic. All you really have to do is make it out of the front door but you’re tipsy and you’re tired and you have the world’s biggest prick knocked out on your back. His chin is tucked over your shoulder and you’re vaguely aware that he’s kind of drooling on your arm. When you walk through the bar this time around the manager fusses over the two of you, but you wave him off.

All the hard work was over now anyways. His sleek, shiny limousine is the first car you spot as you walk outside. You stomp over to the driver side and rap on the window with your knuckles.

  
“Hey!” you shout, “I’ve got your boss on my back and he’s super drunk. He’s kind of heavy too.”

  
The driver rolls down his window and gapes at the two of you, while two men in suits (you’re pretty sure you’ve seen the one with the mustache before) try to peel Kaiba off of your back.

  
His arms are locked tightly around your neck, refusing to let go. As the two men try to tug him away from you he groans irritably.

  
You blow a stray piece of your hair out of your face and sigh, “Could you guys give me a ride home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing card games drunk is a difficult task. My friends and i tried to play Magic drunk off of asses at a bar once and it was a train wreck. On another note, I have no idea if the Duel Monsters drinking game is a thing. I made it up spur of the moment


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I typed and retyped like 5 different versions of this chapter before I finally settled on a plot that I liked. Sorry it took so long to update :,( I may end up revising and changing this chapter

After getting dropped off at your home, you crawl into bed and sleep like a rock, forgetting all about Kaiba and the stupid drinking contest. You needed a break. Hell, after all the crap you’ve been through, you deserve it. You sleep in, hang out with your friends, and make it back to work that night fully charged. Work was slow. And so far so good, because you’d yet to see or hear from Kaiba, who was quickly becoming the biggest headache and pain to deal with.

Okay, scratch that. Your dad definitely held the number one spot, but Kaiba was cutting it close. The two of you really needed to just sit down and talk things out. Maybe try to get along for once.

“Hey boss, would you let know me if the guy with the blue eyes comes back? I’m going to take a smoke break.”

“Are you sure you’re straight, Jounouchi?” the manager laughs as he ruffles your hair, “You seem awfully attached to that one.”

“Of course I’m straight,” you grumble, “I’m all about tits and nice hair.”

Your boss smacks you on the back of the head, “Then quit keeping all the cuties to yourself! Send a few my way.”

“Yeah, whatever you say old man.”

He flips you the bird and wave him off, stuffing your hands into your pockets and exiting the little bar through the back. The air is cool and refreshing. You didn’t mind having to work, but it got hard sometimes. You were always busy and you were always tired. You still had to keep up in school and you still wanted to have time for your friends. You wanted to help your old man out with the rent (cause let’s face it, you’d be homeless if you didn’t), but you also wanted to save your money. You needed some cash to catch the train to visit your sister every now and then, and you were also hoping to save enough money to move out by the time high school was over.

Squatting along the wall, you jam a hand into your pocket and produce a pack of cigarettes you’s swiped from your old man. You’re sure he knew it was you, but it wasn’t like he was ever sober enough to care. And it wasn’t like he had much room to complain when it was partially your money fueling his addiction and keeping the two of you afloat.

He hadn’t always been the useless drunk that he was, though the memory was far and fading. He had his moments were he was able to sober up long enough to hold down a job, but it was you who kept his sorry ass stable. You pluck a cigarette out of your pack and stick it between your lips. With a flick of your thumb you strike your zippo and light your cigarette.

You close your eyes and take a long drag. It was a habit you picked up from your days of running with Hirtutani and the Rintama gang. You’d meant to quit but you never got around to it.

“Well aren’t you the poster child for juvenile delinquency.”

“Fuck!” you shout, nearly jumping out of your skin, “Kaiba?”

Mother of Ra, where the hell did he come from? Did he just materialize out of thin air, or did he hitch a ride on his broomstick? He’s standing in front of you, arms crossed and foot tapping. He hadn’t dyed his hair this time around, and he’s sporting a pair of sunglasses, probably due to his massive hangover.

“Don’t go sneaking around the place!” you shout, clutching a hand to your chest, “That kills people!”

“And so does that,” Kaiba counters, eyeing your cigarettes with disdain, “Quite a filthy habit you have, although befitting of a proletariat like yourself.”

You squint at him in confusion, “A what?”

“Never mind, idiot,” he scoffs.

You flick off the ash from your cigarette and stare at the ground, “Don’t you have work or something?”

“Not today. Even I am allotted days off.”

“Oh really? I never would have guessed by the way you keep fucking stalking me.”

He squares his shoulders, “A master has to keep his dog on a short leash.”

“Don’t start with that crap again!” you shout, blowing a cloud of smoke onto Kaiba’s fancy suit pants, “I’m not a dog! And if I was a dog, I definitely wouldn’t be your dog, asshole.”

“You really should quit,” Kaiba says, ignoring you completely.

“I really don’t,” you say in an even tone, despite your obvious annoyance, “It helps relieve stress.”

“Does it?”

“Yes,” you repeat, “It does.”

“Let me try it.”

It’s more of a demand than a request. You look up to see Kaiba holding out his hand to you, fingers wiggling impatiently.

“What? Why?” you ask, in a disbelieving tone.

“Because it ‘helps relieve stress’”.

“Have you ever smoked before?”

“I fail to see the relevance.”

“Whatever. Put it around your lips and pull up. Don’t inhale too much or you’ll probably choke,” you explain, although you secretly hope he does choke. Self-righteous bastard.

“Just give it to me.”

“Fine,” you pass your cigarette to him, “Here ya go, your majesty.”

He eyes it with a dull expression, “You don’t have any questionable diseases, do you?”

“What does that mean?” you growl. You know damn well what he’s trying to say but it still pisses you off, “I’m as healthy as a horse. Always have been.”

Because you can’t afford to be sick, that is. Being sick means going to the doctor, and going to the doctor means spending money. Money that you don’t have. You only had enough money scraped together to get you one physical inspection a year. You couldn’t afford any hiccups.

You watch as Kaiba brings your cigarette to his lips and takes a hit. His eyes water and he immediately begins coughing. You watch him with a shit eating grin. With an annoyed expression on his face he hands the cigarette back to you.

“Disgusting.”

“Did you even inhale?” you ask.

His lips form a thin line, “No. It was vile.”

“Then ya didn’t really get the full experience.”

“What a pity,” he says. He shifts his hips uncomfortably, balancing his weight onto one foot, “About last night, Bonkotsu. Isono told me what you did for me. You even brought back my deck.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t need you accusing me of trying to steal your cards,” you say in a nonchalant tone.

“I suppose I owe you now,” he says, slipping hand into his pockets.

“Looks like it,” you mutter, flicking the ash off your cigarette.

“I could pay you—“

“No,” you growl, effectively cutting him off.

“Why not? It’s obvious that you could use the money.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“I don’t like to leave my debts unpaid,” Kaiba says firmly, “Name what you want and it’s yours.”

“Look Rich Boy,” you sigh, “its fine. I don’t want anything.”

“And I don’t like owing other people favors,” Kaiba stresses.

You didn’t want Kaiba’s money. You didn’t need it. Damn your pride, but you’d rather struggle than bow down and take a hand out, especially from Kaiba. A man was proud of what he had, even if it wasn’t much. As long as you’d earned it, it was something you could take pride in.

You take a long drag. The temptation was strong. A great opportunity just waltzed its way in and landed in your lap. Kaiba was rich and he was offering you whatever you wanted. But did would you really feel comfortable with asking Kaiba to buy you new shoes or a new pair of jeans? Masculinity was a fragile thing. You didn’t need to see his piteous glare or hear his mocking laughter. You were just fine.

“I don’t want anything,” you repeat, “Just forget about it.”

He is unrelenting. He nudges you with his shoes. They were probably worth more than your entire week’s paycheck, “Duel Monsters cards. A new cellphone. Answers to the test for next Friday. Name your price.”

It seemed that Kaiba had his pride, too. He couldn’t have been too thrilled about having to be taken care of by the likes of you. Maybe you could ask for something small. Something he couldn’t laugh at you for.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t be difficult.”

You bite your lip, “Well maybe there is one thing.”

He cocks a brow at you, “Name it.”

You scratch the back of your head, “Well I mean it’s not really something you can buy.”

“Spit it out.”

“Be my friend.”

“What?” he snarls. He recoils and stares at you like you’d suddenly grown a second head.

“Be my friend,” you repeat slowly, as if Kaiba were stupid, “You lost the drinking game last night, which means you have to be nice to me. You might as well go all out and be my friend.”

His disgust is clear.

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

You shrug, “You’re already half way there. You hang with me out of your own free will and you talk to me. Plus I cleaned your barf, so you kinda owe me double.”

“I don’t need ‘friends’,” he spits, “Least of all you.”

“Are you going back on what you said?” you challenge, “I always thought you were a man of your word.”

“I am a man of my word.”

“Great. Friends then?”

He eyes you with disdain.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“We’ll need to establish boundaries.”

“What?”

“Don’t talk to me at school. Don’t contact me at home or at work. Do not approach me in public. And most importantly, do not speak of this silly arrangement to anyone. Least of all your little friends.”

“I know you’re probably not an expert on the subject, but that’s not how friendship works.”

“That’s exactly how it’s going to work if you want to keep up with this moronic charade.”

You take a long and ragged breath. What the fuck? Where did that prick get off thinking he could issue you a set of commands?

You feel your anger well up inside of you. Honestly, why do you even bother? Kaiba was a fucking twat waffle and nothing was going to make that change. You tell him what you want and he spits it back into your face. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting it, but it still pisses you off. You really do want to be friends with Kaiba.

Or at the very least, you just wanted him to stop looking down on you. You wanted to be seen as an equal. You knew you didn’t need his acceptance, you really didn’t, but it hurt your pride to know that he thought so lowly of you. He acted as though you weren’t worth the dirt off his boots, and you sure as hell let you know it. Kaiba never had anything kind to say about you. It was stupid and it was silly but it bothered you. You always had an inferiority complex when it came to Kaiba.

“If you are going to act like that, then being your friend isn’t worth it.”

“And how exactly am I acting?”

You toss your cigarette to the ground and crush it underneath your worn out sneakers, “You walk around the place like you’re a fucking god and I’m some worthless scrub. I don’t know why I even tried. You’re a shitty person and you’d be a shitty friend. I’ve had enough shitty friends to last me a lifetime.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad, Jounouchi?”

“Probably not. It’s not like you have any damn feelings.”

“I have feelings.”

You cross your arms and laugh. It’s thick and forced, “Oh yeah that’s right. You’re capable of feeling like king of the world when you’re swimming in your pools of money, and you’re capable of feeling like a fucking loser when Yugi wipes the floor with you in a duel! My mistake.”

He rips his sunglasses off of his face and jams them into his pockets. You must have struck a nerve because he doesn’t hold back the next time he speaks, “At least I don’t have to feel like a loser all the time. Perhaps I’ll even shed a tear about it when I’m at home in my mansion, and you’re at home in your dilapidated apartment in the slums, dog. You can say whatever you want about me, but it won’t change the fact that you’re worthless street trash. Struggle and fight as you may, but that’s all you’ll ever be.”

That’s it. You’re done. You’re done with Kaiba and you’re done with his crap. You officially wipe your hands of him.

“Fuck you,” you say in a harsh whisper, “If you don’t want all of Domino city knowing you’re a faggot I suggest you stay the hell away from me.”

His eyes are cold enough to freeze hell over, “Are you threatening me?”

“It’s not a threat,” you say, setting your jaw, “It’s a promise.”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

This wasn’t like any of the other times the two of you fought. This time you had a bargaining chip. You could knock Kaiba off his pedestal and back down to earth. You could completely ruin him, and he knew it.

“I’m not afraid of you, Kaiba.”

He’s quick. In the blink of an eye his hand cuts across the air and slaps your cheek. A sickly cracking sound echoes down the quiet back alley. You cup your cheek in shock. The sheer force of the blow catches you by surprise. 

Kaiba is stronger than he looks.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, save both of your heavy breathing. Kaiba was huffing like he’d just run a marathon, his face contorted into an angry scowl as he tried to steady his breathing. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Your cheek stung.

So Kaiba was capable of losing control too. You were slightly impressed. You’d never peg Kaiba to do his own dirty work. You were half expecting him to call his body guards to pull you deeper into the alley and beat you up. You didn’t appreciate being slapped but it was shocking to see a spark of emotion through his cold exterior. The way he snapped had been so human. So real. You wanted to see more of it.

The fleeting look of shock and fear in his eyes was enough to make you forget your anger. You’d seen that look of panic and betrayal in your own eyes many times. You knew you were wrong for saying that. And the little voice in the back of your head (that sounded suspiciously similar to Yugi) was telling you that you knew exactly what you needed to do.

Apologize.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt out, “I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to piss you off, you know? You may have been acting like a dick but I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, I’m sure you’re still pissed but for what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

He glares at you, “Is that halfhearted apology supposed to change anything?”

“No,” you say, slow and uncertain, “But I hope you’ll accept, because I meant what I said before. I really would like for us to be friends.”

He glares at you.

“You’ve got a nice arm. Had it been a punch instead of a slap, you might’ve knocked me out,” you add.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me.”

“Sorry,” you say, biting your lip, “I just want you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I know you don’t really trust me or whatever, but I would never try to black mail you. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”

“I know,” Kaiba says, which catches you by surprise, “You wouldn’t be smart enough to get away with it, and you aren’t stupid enough to try it. We all say ugly things when we’re angry. That’s human nature, though you seem inclined to believe that I am not human.”

“I also didn’t meant that,” you say, avoiding his eyes, “Are we good now?”

“Whatever.”

“And about earlier? Do you think we can still try being friends?” you ask, wiping your hand on your shirt and holding it out.

His eyes narrow, “Only if you are willing to abide by my requests.”

“That’s fine. I get that you’re new to this. We can consider this a work in progress.”

Kaiba doesn’t accept your handshake. Instead, he takes a business card out of his jacket and scribbles something on the back, and places it into your hand, “Here.”

_S.K. 598-7527_

“What’s this?” you ask, squinting down at the card.

“My phone number. My personal number to be exact.”

Ah. He was giving you his phone number? Maybe he isn’t that stuck up after all. You grin and tuck the card into your back pocket, “Can I text you?”

“If that’s what you want. I assume this is how normal high school friendships work?” he scoffs, “Or am I mistaken?”

“No, no!” you laugh, “I was just making sure. It’s just, I thought no contact was part of your rules?”

“I suppose my conditions were a bit too stringent, so I have decided to change my mind,” he says, “After all, this friendship is ‘a work in progress’, yes?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, nodding your head, “So do you wanna come in and grab a drink? On me this time, as an apology for being a jackass to you.”

He looks at you and smirks, although this time it’s more joking than mocking, “Why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From reading the manga and watching the anime, i noticed people don't give Jou much credit. He's the stereotypical stupid, comic relief character in the Englush dub, and that doesn't give his character much credit. He's really dynamic. Quick to laugh, quick to anger, quick to forgive. He's funny, and he's strong, and I think his dislike of Kaiba is fun to explore in reading and writing fanfics.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always had the idea of this fic in mind and it suddenly came to me while I was in the shower. This isn't a completed fic so it might take a while to get updates


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